


Foolish Child

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Human Cole (Dragon Age), Hurt/Comfort, Solas is Fen'Harel (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 23:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: After Cole chooses to become more human, he and Solas talk.





	Foolish Child

Solas shifted his palms, letting the veilfire glow between them. It was very dark in the rotunda, the other candles long-since burned down to the very ends of their wicks, and it illuminated everything in a sickly green glow, most of all the notes he had on the page before him, copying down the runes they’d discovered the morning previous.

“When you do it,” Cole asked, “will it hurt?”

Solas looked to the young man, who was curled up on Solas’ sofa, underneath a soft lamb’s wool blanket that Josephine had given him, now that it seemed that sleep would overtake him more often. Cole had chosen to sleep, a few times before – now, his body insisted upon it, and he was still growing used to the fatigue that took him over at intervals, or the hunger that settled in his gut when he forgot to take meals for hours on end.

The veilfire illuminated the pale lines of his face, without his hat there to hide it, casting shadows of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, and shone off his hair. Blackwall had cut it for him, today, settled Cole on a stool in the stable and trimmed back the shaggy mane that had grown about his ears, making him neat and tidy.

“For you?” Solas asked. “I don’t know.”

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Cole murmured, turning pale blue eyes upon the ceiling instead of at Solas himself. “You shouldn’t have done it, you foolish child, you’ve doomed yourself with the rest of them and you knew what you were doing, how could you do that? So many will be doomed in the fracas to come – why would you choose so readily to join them?”

Solas said nothing.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you,” Cole said softly. “I did it… for me.”

“Yes,” Solas said. “I don’t fault you for that.”

“But it still hurts you,” Cole said. “The idea that when you tear it down, I’ll be torn down too. But that hasn’t happened yet – why are you hurt for hurt that hasn’t come to pass?”

“Because it will.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Cole murmured, his voice more than merely quiet – it was a reminder, perhaps, or even a plea.

“Yes,” Solas replied, aware that his voice was slightly thick, “it does.”

“They’ll all perish,” Cole murmured, echoing thoughts that were not his own as his eyes slipped shut. “Perhaps Sera will survive, for there’s something of the old blood in her; perhaps Vivienne, but Dorian will corrupt any spirit that comes to him; and all the rest…” Cole paused, his brow furrowing. “What about the Inquisitor?”

Solas turned his face away.

Silence spanned between them for a moment, and then Cole said, “I wish I could fix it, Solas. I can make everyone else feel better, I can heal their hurt, but yours is always too big, too wide, I never know where to start.”

“Your presence helps, Cole,” Solas said softly. “You bring me joy when darkness reigns.”

“So does the Inquisitor,” Cole said. “Will he die, when you do it? Will the Anchor protect him?” Cole gasped. “But… Oh.”

“Yes,” Solas said. “It is the only way.”

“I wish I could do something,” Cole said wretchedly. “Can I?”

“Sleep, Cole,” Solas said, stepping closer to the sofa and letting the fire fizzle away from his fingers, reaching out to gently touch the young man’s brow. “You’ll feel better.”

“You won’t,” Cole said plaintively. “Not until it’s over, not until it’s done, not until I can repair the wrong I’ve done and return to what should be, should have been…” He sat forward, and then he lunged, pressing his face against Solas’ chest and throwing his arms around Solas’ middle, squeezing him tightly. His cheek was warm, his hands gripping so tightly, and Solas couldn’t hold back his sigh.

Solas laid a hand in his hair, and instead of allowing himself to dwell on the ever-present, hollow ache in his chest, he thought of a cool glade in spring’s beginning, instead, the water rippling like shining mercury beneath the moonlight, the wind rustling the leaves, the scent of dew rising to meet the nose.

Cole slackened against him, and Solas gently lowered him down onto the sofa, putting Cole’s head upon the pillow, tucking the blanket about his body. He kneeled beside the sofa, stroking his fringe away from his forehead, looking at Cole’s peaceful expression, now adrift in sleep.

_Will it hurt?_ he’d asked. Would it hurt him? Would it be agony? Would he die, wrenched in two, the spirit cleft from the young man he was choosing to be?

Solas didn’t know.

“Foolish child,” he said softly, wishing he could blame the Inquisitor, or Varric, or even Cole himself. The blame was not to be laid with anyone, of course – anyone but Solas himself. He remained on his knees, bowing his head for a moment, and then he turned back, letting veilfire flicker to life in his palm.

There was work to do.

The end was a ways off yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to hit up [my ask on Tumblr,](http://patricianandclerk.tumblr.com/ask) to talk about DA in general, and definitely to recommend blogs to follow! I am open for requests (for Origins, II, and Inq). I also run a no-drama Dragon Age Discord, which [you can join here.](https://discordapp.com/invite/ttgP5v8) Please comment if you can!


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